BOOK THE FOURTH

5. Chapter V

THE PHILTRE. ITS EFFECT.

WHEN Glaucus arrived at his own home, he found Nydia seated under the
portico of his garden. In fact, she had sought his house in the mere chance
that he might return at an early hour: anxious, fearful, anticipative, she
resolved upon seizing the earliest opportunity of availing herself of the
love-charm, while at the same time she half hoped the opportunity might be
deferred.

It was then, in that fearful burning mood, her heart beating, her cheek
flushing, that Nydia awaited the possibility of Glaucus's return before the
night. He crossed the portico just as the first stars began to rise, and
the heaven above had assumed its most purple robe.

'Ho, my child, wait you for me?'

'Nay, I have been tending the flowers, and did but linger a little while to
rest myself'

'It has been warm,' said Glaucus, placing himself also on one of the seats
beneath the colonnade.

'Very.'

'Wilt thou summon Davus? The wine I have drunk heats me, and I long for
some cooling drink.'

Here at once, suddenly and unexpectedly, the very opportunity that Nydia
awaited presented itself; of himself, at his own free choice, he afforded to
her that occasion. She breathed quick--'I will prepare for you myself,'
said she, 'the summer draught that Ione loves--of honey and weak wine cooled
in snow.'

'Thanks,' said the unconscious Glaucus. 'If Ione love it, enough; it would
be grateful were it poison.'